Beyond Transfiguration

Regulus didn't ask directly about the window, nor did he mention it at all.

However, we can get a theoretical answer to this question from Professor McGonagall.

She certainly wouldn't give him the answer to the Severing Charm, but the theory of Transfiguration could tell him whether it was logically possible to apply Transfiguration when the object's original form had been stripped away.

If this is successful, the remaining issues are simply operational.

As for how long the window is, how to complete the Transfiguration within the window, and how to prevent the basic units from disintegrating, those are his own business.

McGonagall was silent for a moment, taking the idea seriously. She had to admit, it was quite profound.

To strip something down to the point where it can no longer be defined as anything definite, and then to give it new form, is no longer the realm of ordinary Transfiguration; it has touched upon the boundaries of existence and form.

She had considered these kinds of questions during her long research into Transfiguration.

But what experience and expertise does she possess? This child in front of her, a second grader, is able to find his way to this boundary by relentlessly questioning the tendency to return to the past.

This level of dedication is rare in her decades-long coaching career.

"From a purely theoretical standpoint," she finally spoke, her voice softer than before, "This line of thinking is logically sound."

If something truly no longer retains any semblance of its original nature, then there is indeed no direction it can return to, and the inclination to return is out of the question.

Regulus listened intently, his gaze focused.

The professor continued, "But there is a fundamental difficulty: something stripped of all its self-identification will not stay comfortably in that state and wait for you."

It ceases to be anything, and this state itself no longer exists.

When things reach this point, they either vanish in an instant, leaving not a trace, or they quickly collapse back into a certain form.

What you envisioned is nothing at all; the state you can shape at will won't give you any time to act calmly. It's just a narrow crack.

Regulus listened, a thoughtful look flashing across his face.

Professor McGonagall's words resonated deeply with him.

In particular, collapse.

Under the Severing Charm, all he had ever seen was dissipation and collapse back into some form; he had never encountered anything like it before.

Perhaps that's another destination he hasn't yet encountered when things have degenerated to a certain extent.

He suppressed the thought and listened to the professor continue.

"There's another layer," McGonagall said, looking at him. "Even if you did give it a new form in that crevice, it wouldn't be the same thing anymore."

The original essence was already gone the moment you stripped away its entire true nature.

What you gain is a completely new existence, rather than permanently deforming the old thing, which goes beyond the scope of Transfiguration.

Transfiguration deals with the form of something that already exists; completely erasing something and then creating a new one from scratch is another matter entirely.

The professor stopped there, not going into any further detail; she simply drew the boundaries and then waited.

In her view, this was nothing more than a talented young wizard's theoretical musings on the edge of Transfiguration.

It's very profound, but ultimately it's still just theory.

"Transfiguration can only give you so much," McGonagall said, her tone softening. "Anything beyond that is a question for other disciplines to answer."

Regulus lowered his eyes, his mind racing.

The professor didn't give an answer, but he already got the answer he wanted.

That almost narrow gap was a precise Portrait of the window.

In the professor's words, it was just a narrow, almost non-existent crack, a theoretical reminder to discourage students from pursuing their studies; but to him, it was a blueprint.

He can completely dissect a living thing at the level of existence, making it no longer itself; he can do that.

But once it's untied, that thing either dissipates or collapses back into itself; the window in the middle that is 'no longer itself, yet hasn't become anything else' is too short.

He had never even seen collapse; with the Severing Charm, all he had ever seen was dissipation, vanishing in an instant.

Perhaps he always went too far, leaving no room for it to collapse; this point needs to be verified with someone later.

He had guessed that the window existed, but he never thought about what he could do with it.

He always regarded the decomposition as the final stage of the process, something to be left to dissipate and be done with.

But as Professor McGonagall just said, this gap is not just the end; it can be manipulated and shaped.

If Transfiguration is applied within this gap, the remaining units can be directly molded into a new form—a form without an original form, without needing to suppress the old form, and never returning to its former state.

The new is built on the foundation of the old, which no longer exists. While the original form is no longer present, the new form becomes the only fact.

This could be a form of Permanent Transfiguration, or even, as the professor said, something beyond the realm of Transfiguration.

Fracturing and Transfiguration —these two things can actually be connected.

It has potential.

Professor McGonagall looked at him, feeling somewhat pleased.

The office was quiet for a moment.

She picked up the teacup on the corner of the table, took a sip, and her gaze swept over the rim of the cup, landing on Regulus.

This Mr. Black sometimes can't think straight. Like that time with the Spatial Transfiguration, he insisted on using Magic Power to fight against the elasticity of space.

It relies too much on rational thinking; it lacks Magic.

But he is indeed very intelligent, he thinks deeply about problems, digs into their essence, understands them as soon as they are explained, and can even deduce further on his own.

What he teaches always finds its place in his students, unlike most students whose words often go unanswered.

Students like this are easy to teach.

She put down her teacup, the bottom of which tapped softly on the Porcelain Plates.

Regulus summarized what the professor had said.

McGonagall offered two options.

One approach is suppression, not altering the original nature, but simply using Magic Power to hold it down.

The other approach is transformation, changing the old form into a new one, allowing the transformed object to accept the new form. Once the contradiction disappears, the tendency to revert to its original state has no root and no longer needs to be maintained.

He found the third one.

The Severing Charm erases and completely deletes the old form.

Peel away that core, and before it dissipates, give it a new form, like the window before it reforms.

The professor didn't mention this route.

Suppression and transformation are two paths within the framework of Transfiguration; reshaping after erasure is outside the framework of Transfiguration.

The Magic world is so vast, perhaps there are wizards who can do similar things; he doesn't know what the professor has seen.

But at least sitting in this office right now, she has theoretically reached the boundaries of Transfiguration, placing the reshaping after erasure outside of Transfiguration.

She didn't say it didn't exist, nor did she say she didn't know; she only said it wasn't Transfiguration.

Suppress, erase, transform.

These three things were arranged in his mind.

Suppression is forcibly pressing down on the old nature; erasure is completely deleting the old nature; transformation is letting the old nature become new on its own.

The first two methods are both forceful: one blocks movement, and the other deletes directly.

The second one is different; it doesn't destroy the old thing, it just lets it transform into something else.

No confrontation, only guidance; no deletion, only transformation.

He had a long-standing question on his mind, which was gently touched upon by these three paths.

Without suppression or deletion, but by guiding it to transform itself, Transfiguration can handle the true nature of things in this way. What about other things?

Light and darkness.

After seeing the empty house in Greyback's mental framework, he kept wondering if isolation was a dead end.

Confining something dark in Containment Chamber, keeping it away from light and preventing it from being touched—isn't that another form of repression?

Is this the same as in Transfiguration, where you prevent the original form from manifesting?

Suppressing it will prevent it from acting up, but suppressing it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

The old reality has always been there, just waiting to spring back the moment you let go.

The same applies to the dark side. If you isolate it, it won't get in the way, but isolating it doesn't mean it disappears.

It has been in the Containment Chamber, just waiting for the day when the isolation can no longer hold and it bursts out.

Suppression and isolation share the same underlying logic: don't touch it, just press it down firmly.

Erasure?

Delete the old version completely, cleanly and thoroughly, without any future problems.

But deleting something means eliminating it, not transforming it.

Eliminating the dark side and leaving only the light to survive is certainly a path, but he won't choose it; he wants both.

Moreover, as the professor said, the old form accepts the new form, and no external force is needed to maintain it, because the contradiction has disappeared from the root.

Can this also apply to the space between light and darkness?

Can we prevent light from suppressing darkness, prevent light from annihilating darkness, and allow darkness to transform itself?

The transformation might be the right thing to do, but he doesn't know how to transform it or what it will become.

The direction of coexistence has been set, but this is only the framework; the path is still unclear.

Greyback's empty house only told him that isolation would fail; Voldemort's Cataclysm only told him the price of tearing apart the soul; his Fusion only told him that the light could become brighter the more it was touched.

But he still had no idea how to deal with the dark side.

Perhaps when the darkness settles and another piece of the puzzle of light and darkness is added, the outline of this problem will emerge.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he suppressed it; this wasn't the time to think about it.

Besides, there's nothing he can do right now; the gap is too short for him to grasp.

To conduct a trial, you need live samples and methods to control the gaps, which he currently lacks.

The connection between fragmentation and Transfiguration, the grasp of the operating window—every step requires extremely precise mental and Magic Power control.

Once Saiph lights up, we can use it as the first direction for verification.

Regulus snapped out of his thoughts.

"Thank you, Professor," he looked up, his attitude sincere and his tone earnest. "I have learned a great deal today."

Professor McGonagall nodded and waved her hand.

"As for matters concerning Transfiguration, just ask," she said casually. "If you can't figure it out, think about it more. If you still can't figure it out, then come and ask again."

Then his tone became sterner. "The paper is due by Friday."

Regulus paused, then bowed slightly. "Yes, Professor."

Just then, there was a knock on the office door.

McGonagall glanced toward the door and raised her voice. "Come in."

The door opened, Sirius stood in the doorway.